Gabriel fram heven king

Everyone loves a good Christmas carol and though most of the ones we are familiar with today are from Victorian times when Christmas as we now think of it was invented, there are some wonderful ones from earlier centuries when it was a purely religious festival. One of my favourites dates back to the 13th century and was actually mentioned by Chaucer in The Miller's Tale where it is sung by the clerk Nicholas. Chaucer calls it by its Latin title of Angelus ad virginem but there is an English version too which I prefer because of the rich and robust sound of the words and a greater sense it gives you of being taken back to the Middle Ages. The song is probably French in origin but it adapts very well to anglicisation. It has a wonderful lilting melody and like many carols you feel you could dance to it. It certainly has a feeling of joy. Wikipedia says it was probably Franciscan in origin and it does have that sweet simplicity you would associate with St Francis.

The song tells the story of the Annunciation when the angel Gabriel appears to the Virgin Mary to announce her divine destiny and ask her if she will accept it. Her humility and grace when faced by this stupendous news is deeply touching. Here she is confronted by a great angel of the Lord and all she asks is how this thing can happen since she is a maid. Nothing about herself. When the miracle is explained to her she accepts it instantly and gives herself over completely to the task.

In this recording by St George's Canzona the tune is given a rather rumbustious folk music performance which suits it quite well though the sense of mystery might be somewhat lacking. Only the first verse is sung.

This is a more reflective performance, perhaps more in keeping with the momentousness of the occasion. All the verses are sung.

Original English version with modern translation in italics

Gabriel, fram hevene king

Sent to the maide sweete,

Broute hire blisful tiding,

And faire he gan hire greete

"Heil be thu, ful of grace aright,

For Godes Sone, this heven-light,

For mannes love

Wil man bicome

And take

Fles of thee, maide bright,

Manken free for to make

Of senne and devles might."

Gabriel, from heaven's king

Sent to the maid sweet,

Brought her blissful tidings,

And fair he did her greet:

"Hail be thou, full of grace aright,

For God's Son, this heaven's light,

For man's love

Will man become

And take

Flesh of thee, maiden bright,

Mankind free for to make

From sin and devil's might."

Mildelich him gan andswere

The milde maiden thanne:

"Wichewise sold ichs bere

A child withhute manne?"

Th'angle hir seid, "Ne dred tee nout;

Thurw th'oligast sal been iwrout

This ilche thing

Warof tiding

Ich bringe.

Al manken wurth ibout

Thurw thine sweete childinge,

And hut of pine ibrout."

Gently him did answer

The gentle maiden then:

"In what way can I bear

A child without a man?"

The angel said, "Fear thee naught;

Through the Holy Ghost shall be wrought

This same thing

Of which tiding

I bring.

All mankind will be redeemed

Through your sweet child

And delivered from suffering."

Wan the maiden understood

And th'angles wordes herde,

Mildelich with milde mud

To th'angle hie andswerde:

"Ure lords thewe maid iwis

Ich am, that her aboven is.

Anenttis me

Fulfurthed be

Thi sawe,

That ich, sith his wil is,

A maide withhute lawe

Of moder have the blis."

When the maiden understood

And the angel's words heard,

Gently with a gentle mind

To the angel she answered

"Our Lord's serving maiden indeed

I am, who here above is.

Concerning me

Fulfilled shall be

Your saying

That I, since his will it is,

A maiden, without a husband

Of motherhood will have the bliss."

Th'angle went awei mid than

Al ut of hire sighte

Hire wombe arise gan

Thurw th'oligastes might.

In hire was Crist biloke anon

Sooth God, sooth man in fles and bon,

And of hir fles

Ibore was

At time,

Warthurw us kam good won.

He bout us ut of pine

And let im for us slon.

The angel then departed

All out of her sight

Her womb to arise began

Through the Holy Ghost's might.

In her was Christ soon enclosed 

True God, true man in flesh and bone,

And of her flesh 

Born he was

In time,

In this way good fortune came to us

He bought us out of pain

And was for us slain.

Maiden moder makeles,

Of milche ful ibunde

Bid for us im that te ches,

At wam thu grace funde,

That he forgive us sen and wrake,

And clene of evri gelt us make;

And heven-blis

Wan ure time is

To sterve

Us give for thine sake

Him so her for to serve

That he us to him take.

Spotless maiden mother 

Of mercy full abounding,

Pray for us to him who chose you

With whom you found grace,

That he forgive us sin and vengeance

And cleanse us of all our guilt 

And heaven's bliss

When our time has come

To die

Grant us for thy sake

Him so here for to serve

That he us to him take.